


when i'm fucked up that's the real me

by Enochianess



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-29 06:09:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20430518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enochianess/pseuds/Enochianess
Summary: Ian's in pain. It's... just one of those nights...





	when i'm fucked up that's the real me

**Author's Note:**

> I wanna die, so instead of doing that, I wrote this.
> 
> There are a lot of suicidal thought in this fic because... well... I'm bipolar, I get in that mind set every few weeks, and I figure Ian probably does too.
> 
> Please be careful and only read if you won't be triggered. Stay safe.

Ian's going crazy. He has to be going crazy.

His eyelids are heavy, his limbs are heavy, everything is heavy, heavy, too fucking heavy.

It's dark in the living room of the Milkovich house.

Mickey is asleep in the bedroom, tucked up nice and tight and warm and safe.

Ian feels the opposite of any of those things.

He hurts and he's cold and he feels so dangerously at the end of his tether that any moment now he could do something he'll never get the chance to regret.

He's scared.

He's so fucking scared.

He's trying to think about all the things his counsellor has told him for moments like this. He's supposed to think about those who love him, those he loves. He doesn't want to hurt them, does he?

Except, imagine the relief...

He feels... something, something light, at just the thought. It's the first thing he's felt in days.

Oh, but to die would be such a wonderful thing.

_It's all in your head. It's all in your head. It's all in your head._

He knows it's the illness talking. In a few days, he'll be so happy that he's still alive and breathing and able to love Mickey Milkovich.

He does love Mickey.

Is it enough though?

Is love enough to keep fighting the good fight day after day, week after week, month after month, and year after year?

It all just feels so exhausting.

He takes a long swig from the bottle of vodka that he's been holding loosely in one hand. It burns.

He welcomes the pain.

"Ian?"

Ian doesn't look up -- his head is too heavy.

"Ian, what's wrong?" Mickey asks, his voice rough from sleep.

"Nothing," Ian whispers.

"Yeah... I can see that." Then, "Come back to bed."

Ian shakes his head.

"Sleep on it, whatever it is. We'll deal with it tomorrow, okay?"

Ian hurts and he hurts and he hurts, but he nods.

_Not tonight._

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [tumblr](http://enochianess.tumblr.com) and on [twitter](http://twitter.com/buckyandsteeb)
> 
> If you liked it, please leave kudos or comments!
> 
> I know it's not good, but I needed to get it out. I'm sorry.


End file.
